Mud Slide Slim and the Blue Horizon played in the background. It was the same CD her momma put on for every family gathering—good “ambiance music,” she claimed. A pang of homesickness ran through Reba, and she clasped the ring dangling in the middle of her chest.
“You really can’t go this long without calling. I know work and the time zones make it hard, but, honey, you’ve got people who worry about you,” said Deedee.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I miss my little sister.”
“I miss you, too.” Reba leaned back in her chair and tried to keep her voice steady. She could feel something inside rising to a pitch, but she couldn’t break. Not now.
“How are you?”
“Doing good, doing good.”
“Yeah, you sound like you’re jumping for joy.”
“I’m tired.”
“Take a vacation! Come home early. That’s the real reason I called. I wanted to know when you’re coming for Christmas.”
“I—well—” She swallowed hard.
Last Christmas, she hadn’t gone home, claiming the new job as her excuse, but in reality, she simply couldn’t face another Christmas with Daddy’s stocking hung next to theirs and Momma trying to be as holly-jolly as ever. At the time, she was newly dating Riki and excited by the prospect of a romantic Christmas Eve with just the two of them. No traditions or expectations to uphold. A clean slate. Momma and Deedee had accepted the explanation with disappointment, but she doubted it would work again this year.
“Don’t even start to tell me you aren’t coming home. I swear to Mary and Joseph I’ll throw a fit!”
“Deedee, please.” Reba fingered her engagement ring, rolling it round her thumb.
“Don’t Deedee me. I don’t want to hear it.” She huffed. “I can’t force you on a plane.”
Reba relaxed a little. That’s right, she couldn’t.
“So I guess I’ll have to come to El Paso.”
“What?” Reba stood up and knocked the magazine to the floor.
“I suspected you might pull another MIA routine, so I already bought a ticket. I’m coming the week between Christmas and New Year’s.”
“This is crazy. I’ve got work and you’ve got work and …”
“What’re you going to do—lock me out of the house? I’m coming, Reba and that’s all there is to it. So unbunch your panties and get used to the idea.”
Chapter Twenty-five
SCHMIDT BÄCKEREI
56 LUDWIGSTRASSE
GARMISCH, GERMANY
FEBRUARY 2, 1945
Elsie celebrated her seventeenth birthday with a midnight picnic on the floor of her bedroom. Tobias had sprinkled some of Mutti’s sweet aniseed into the rye dough and braided it into the shape of a crown. It’d baked off dark and fragrant as candied licorice. They placed a blackout candle in the center. Though small and lacking in the feasts and family of previous birthday celebrations, she had great hope for her seventeenth year and was grateful for Tobias’s company in welcoming it. When the cuckoo chimed twelve o’clock, she blew out the flame, and the room snuffed into darkness.
Three days later, Papa, Mutti, and Josef returned with a boy Elsie would never have recognized if he hadn’t entered the bakery and immediately announced, “I’m Julius. I don’t belong here.”
So unlike his mother and father was he in both appearance and disposition, she’d almost agreed with him.
Instead, she’d replied, “I’m happy to meet you. I feel as if I should know you better. I’m your tante.”
“Doch! I know,” he’d said and wriggled up his nose like a piglet. “What’s that stink?”
She’d just finished a batch of onion rolls and ignored her nephew’s disparagement. “Where’s Hazel?” she asked.
Papa handed Mutti his suitcase. “Take these up, Luana.” He turned to Josef. “Thank you again for all that you have done for us.”
The men exchanged heavy nods that spoke beyond words.
“What?” Elsie asked one, then the other. “What?”
Papa held up a commanding hand. “Later. It has been a long day, Elsie.” He gently took Julius by the shoulder. “Come. Let’s find something to eat before bed.” He led him to the kitchen.
Alone, Josef turned to her.
“You must tell me,” she begged.
He placed his cap on snugly. “Hazel left the Program.”
“Left? And went where? She would be here, ja?”
“Your parents will explain. It’s not my place.”
She understood when to stop asking questions. The week before, the Gestapo shot Achim Thalberg, the orchard farmer. His crime: he announced to the biergarten news of German retreat in Slovenia. A handful of Gestapo sat at a nearby table. With a quick exchange of words, they pulled their pistols and in less than a minute, poor Achim lay dead, his beer stein frothy and cold on the table.
Frau Rattelmüller continued to purchase her morning brötchen and had filled her in on the details. Elsie didn’t fully trust the frau yet, but with each passing day, she proved herself a faithful confidante. In her parents’ absence, Elsie had given the frau extra rolls and honey buns with her usual order. Nothing that would be noticed when her papa returned. Tobias was still painfully thin, but she suspected it was the nature of everyone these days. Her own dresses hung loose on her frame. They had no more meat, and there wasn’t so much as a scrawny rabbit to be found on the black market. The forests had been stripped of every animal aboveground. She hid the handfuls of root vegetables they still owned in a burlap sack behind the kitchen kindle pile and prayed for an early spring. If there wasn’t, she was sure they’d all waste away to skeletons.
She fidgeted with the baggy cuff of her sleeve. Josef took her hand and ran his thumb over the ring he’d given her. Elsie continued to wear it as a kind of talisman. Something was happening. She’d felt it for days, fear rolling closer like an ominous storm.
“I’m sorry, I cannot stay,” said Josef. “I received immediate orders to report to Dachau.”
“You’re leaving? For how long?”
“Until our forces have pushed back the Allied forces.”
A wave of nausea swept through her. Who would protect them now? Rumors swirled that the Red Army was a greater power than anticipated, and it wouldn’t be long before they marched directly into the heart of Berlin. As fearful as she was of the enemy, the thought of what her own countrymen would do to her made her chest seize up with nettled panic. The Grün family disappeared in the night, but as proven by Achim Thalberg, the soldiers were becoming more brazen and eager to make examples of anyone who crossed them. Josef was her ally, but now he was leaving, Hazel had disappeared, Julius was in their care, Tobias was hidden in her bedroom, and Germany was losing the war. All of it swept over her, and her hands went clammy despite the sheen of sweat on her face.